


Kinktober 2018; Wolf 359 Edition (AKA "I Will Go Down With This Ship" Edition)

by Still_Floating



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Kinktober, Kinktober 2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-23 15:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_Floating/pseuds/Still_Floating
Summary: Noted relationships are just ideas and what I figure I may write! Called the "I will go down with this ship" edition as it will include a lot of ships/characters I just don't see enough. Tags and such may change (if I can figure out how to do so) at the end with proper ships and such. If you really like this and so do I, I may continue to do Wolf one shots.





	1. Day I

Kinktober Day I - Deep-Throating | Inflation | Face-Sitting | Masks  
Chosen Theme - Masks  
Fandom - Wolf 359 (Podcast)  
Pairing - Rachel/Mystery (It's more fun this way I swear)

Rachel never would have done this if she didn't have to. The whole concept of a masquerade dance was just... dumb, and kind of dated. What's the point in dancing around with god-knows-who for a night, just to awkwardly find out the next day that it was somebody you'd never have associated with otherwise? You'll always know your friends and close coworkers (not that she had any), so it was just going to be some stranger. Things get awkward for a week or two, and you move on; rinse and repeat for every god-awful function of this manner.

Even so, it was company mandated, and Mr. Cutter was not one to be played around with. No matter how many days, weeks, and years went by, she never forgot the day she met the man. He was so strange at first, sugary to the point that even she was put off. But as she pushed, she kept finding herself, the one _known_ for busting guys like this, wanting to stop. Once he pulled that gun out...well she'd laughed, but honestly he seemed crazy enough to do it. Maybe even like it. 

But getting off that subject, Rachel shook her head out, tried to enjoy getting ready for such a tireless affair. It was better than work, she thought, immediately dismissing it as untrue. After all, the only bad part about work were the people, and they'd all be there tonight. Mr. Cutter said it helped to have upper crust employees "rubbing elbows" with the lower, so that no one felt isolated, or for that matter, suspicious. Putting on a white dress (also mandated, the men were to wear black suits to match) and her mask, of course, she moved downstairs. 

As she went to walk out the door, she turned, deciding to take just one little shot first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, in her defense, it had been only a little shot. The first time. And the second time. But dammit _Rachel Young that third shot was fucking gigantic, control yourself._ And it didn't help to find that Marcus Cutter had sprang for an open bar. Honestly, she didn't know what she expected, that was just like him. Still, she mingled a bit before going over there. She had at least a bit of restraint, and while she was open to one night stands, even with people at work, it was probably a good idea to be somewhat sober for it, so she could remember what exactly to be embarrassed about.

She entered the raffle, knowing Cutter would pay enough attention to give it to someone below her, and decided to give into dancing. Maybe another drink too. She danced with a couple guys, and even a girl or two, just for kicks. Nothing really seemed to stick, which was exceptionally boring. But as the night went on, a guy caught her eye a couple times. Eventually that moved to a dance, wherein she noticed he was exceptionally polite, and very old school. Something you didn't see a lot nowadays, and she respected that. Unlike the others she'd met at past masquerades, he wasn't all over her, and he didn't even seem inclined to kiss her either. The thought crossed her mind that maybe that wasn't what he was after. 

But she could not have been more wrong. They played with each other over the course of the night, and when things were beginning to wind down, he brought her a drink. White Russian; he'd been paying attention to her drinks of all things. The thought crossed her mind that there was something wrong as she walked out on his arm, but she ignored it. It was probably just the booze talking. 

So, she went with him. He took her to an expensive hotel, which she didn't take much notice of. Goddard was a real nice place to work, especially financially, and they probably didn't want her to come back puppy style, not knowing that she was furthest person from that. If she was going to date anyone, it probably would be a woman, and likely not anyone from work. Everyone she had an interest in, she couldn't tell everything she'd want to in a relationship. 

She was prepared to take off her mask whenever he did, but kind of hoped he'd leave it on; not ruin it with whomever she was fucking, and the concept was kinda hot to her. Thankfully he obliged her silent request.

The sex itself was actually the best she'd had in a while. She didn't feel used, or like she was using him; they were in a real balance. As for control though, that was all him. He'd used her shirt against her, leaving it on her wrists and tying his shirt around it and the headboard of the hotel bed, trapping her hands. Which was a pity, because she'd have loved to touch him. He was thin, more than she was used to, but not like sick or anything. He wasn't ripped but there were subtle outlines to his abs, and his arms bulged when he used the muscles. She only hoped he didn't blindfold her so she could keep looking. Another silent request fulfilled.

All in all, it was admittedly really hot. She'd definitely do him again, had she known who he was, but that mask stayed true till the end of their night. He'd cuddled her for a while, which was nice but it attached her to him, and she said she had to go not too long afterwards. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She woke up the next morning not regretting anything, except the drinking. She was hungover as hell, and honestly just wished she could sleep in. Still, she got ready, set her stuff at her desk, and walked into Mr. Cutter's office.

"Good morning Rachel."

"Morning Sir, you're more chipper than usual today."

"I already had my coffee," he excused, "but I didn't know what to get you. Chai, an espresso? Perhaps we'll get into a bit of day drinking, throw a _White Russian_ into the mix?" It took her a second to understand his slick smirk. It took her far less time to imagine all the different ways she could phrase her notice.


	2. End of Kinktober. Sorry guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note - I just… can’t get into writing sexual things right now. I don’t know exactly what’s wrong but it’s really freaking me out… sorry guys, this’ll be the last update to this. I just thought I'd show that I did have the ideas set up...

Kinktober Day III - Sensory Depration | Temperature Play | Edgeplay | Knife Play  
Chosen Theme - Temperature Play, Edgeplay, Knifeplay (technically?)  
Fandom - Wolf 359 (Podcast)  
Pairing - Hilbert x OC

I still didn’t regret it. I knew what he did to me now; I was infected with a virus called Decima. I was sick, he _made me sick_ and I didn’t regret it. Didn’t regret helping him kill the others. I didn’t understand why he had, what he was supposed to achieve, but I sat back quietly, let him lead. I had always kind of had attraction to our local good doctor, but now… seeing how much power he’d always had over me and everyone else, well that was just too much.

Hilbert had caught me catching my breath around him a couple times. He was fairly easily irritated with me, probably because from what I heard of him talking to Mr. Cutter, I was supposed to be dead too. Sometimes, that was kind of hot too though. Generally, he rolled his eyes and moved on, but not today. 

_”Okay, just shut your mouth and let me finish work.”_

_“Well I’m sorry, but it fucking hurts.”_

_“Am well aware. But will slip if you don’t stop squirming and bitching about pain.”_

_“I…”_

_“Oh stop.”_

_“What?”_

_“Don’t think I don’t notice.”_

_“I, um…”_

_“I don’t care, don’t get shy now, but time and place. And my lab, during work, not best of either.”_

_“Sorry.”_

I went back to my job once he was finished, guilty that I’d likely bothered him. Then again, whenever he’d gotten this angry, he usually would ping through to- _bzzz!_

“Yeah Doctor?”

“Apologies for earlier. Had important call with Mr. Cutter and could not be late.”

“‘Kay. Sorry Doc.”

“Don’t be. Is honestly not huge deal. Have dealt with this before.”

“What?”

“I swear…” he chuckled under his breath, “my accent is cursed. Regardless, doesn’t bother me.”

“That’s what you get for coming to America.” I laughed, “but that’s not why.”

“So what _is_ it?”

I realized that probably wasn’t the best decision I’d ever made...because now I’d have to explain. “Uh…I plead the fifth?”

“Pardon me?”

“Oh! Right! Uh, the fifth amendment to the constitution. ‘No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury’. It’s the right to not testify against yourself.”

He laughed, “Of course. Fine then.”


End file.
